


The Six Types of Guys You Meet at Babylon

by carpevinum



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M, POV Second Person, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 05:37:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4654359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpevinum/pseuds/carpevinum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys of Babylon can be nice, mean, or just plain weird.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Six Types of Guys You Meet at Babylon

_I._

Babylon is filled with them. Boys. Cute boys. Cute _gay_ boys. Honestly, you didn’t know this many of them existed in Pittsburgh. To have all of them in one place is wonderful. It’s paradise. It’s like you’ve died and gone to gay heaven. You never expected Liberty Avenue to be so, well, liberating. 

Most nights, you’re just hoping that you’ll get to go home with Brian. But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy all the attention you get. And boy, do you get a lot of it. You quickly learn that a lot of guys like you. It’s not surprising, you suppose. You’re young and fit and blond. You caught Brian’s attention, didn't you?

So you don’t mind how guys press up against you or hand you pieces of paper with their phone number scrawled on it. Some nights, you even leave with your pockets stuffed full of those little slips. You like knowing that they think you’re attractive. Like knowing that they want to fuck you. 

_II._

But not everyone is nice. In fact, some are rather mean. At first, you’re not sure whether you're imagining things. Babylon is always crowded; people are bound to bump into each other, right? There are those guys that practically shove you aside when they walk past you. It’s almost as if they purposefully angle their shoulders so that it hurts extra. 

Of course they don’t do it to anyone else, which makes the whole thing more infuriating, so you make sure to yell “fuck you” and ask them what crawled up their asses.

Some of them try to fuck with you in more direct ways. When you’re waiting alone in line to get in, they cough “underage” loudly in front of the bouncer, and when you’re trying to buy a drink at the bar, they condescendingly warn the bartender the risks of serving minors. Fucking assholes.

_III._

Some guys that frequent Babylon are downright weird. Not in a I-want-to-take-you-to-my-dungeon-and-tie-you-up kind of way (although those guys exist as well). They’re weird because they don’t want to fuck you. They just want to talk to you. 

They offer to buy you a drink, which you accept because the tips from the diner don’t add up to much.

“Hey, you’re Justin, right?” It’s more a statement than a question.

You respond because you don’t want to be rude and because it’s hard to ignore someone who addresses you by name. You’re confused, because you’re not sure whether you’ve ever met them before. 

“You’re pretty young, huh?” Again, a statement barely phrased as a question. “What are you, in college or something?”

“Something like that,” you respond, trying to say as little as possible. Your beer is getting lukewarm and losing its fizz. You really just want to find Brian and dance.

“So is Brian Kinney like your boyfriend?” It’s a stupid question; the both of you _clearly_ know that of all of the things Brian Kinney does, boyfriends are not among them. 

You resist the urge to snort. “I don’t do boyfriends,” you shrug. You’re trying really hard not to sound rude, but you also want the conversation to be over already. 

“But you do know him, right?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

Laughter, followed by a pause. “But you fuck him?” At this point, you give of responding and nod slightly. He keeps talking. “Oh that’s cool, I guess.”

“Justin!” You perk up when you hear a familiar voice. It’s Emmett heading your way, his arms flailing in the air. 

“It’s been nice talking to you, but I gotta go,” you say quickly, before he can ask you any more questions. “Thanks for the drink!”

“Are you going to meet up with Brian?” The questions never stop apparently. 

“Sure,” you say as you start walking away. You almost run to Emmett, who’s curious to know who you’ve been talking to. You respond with a laugh, “I have no idea.”

_IV._

There are some guys that you think are hot. Like really hot. Not like Brian Kinney attractive, but yeah, they’re up there. You even want to fuck some of them. At the very least, you want to dance with them. But they avoid you. 

Even if they’ve been staring at you from across the dance floor, when you go up to them, they take one look at you and walk away. Other times, they approach you from behind, rubbing up against you as you dance. Then, they see your face and slink away. 

This annoys you immensely, so one night when another hot guy starts to walks away after giving you a once over, you grab him by the forearm. 

“The fuck’s your problem?” You demand to know.

The guy rolls his eyes like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “Yeah, I’ve heard about you,” he responds breezily. “Todd told me you’re not worth it.”

“Worth what?” Why the fuck is Todd running his mouth? What the fuck does he know? 

“Trying to fuck you. Not with _him_ always interrupting.”

It takes a moment to click, and when it does, you begin to protest. Brian Kinney, the guy who pushes you away at the same frequency he takes you home, doesn’t own you. He doesn’t get to dictate who you fuck. “That’s not true!”

“Sure it isn’t,” he replies sarcastically with another eye roll and walks away. You begin to think and realize that maybe the guy was right. It’s hard to count the number of times you’ve been dancing with someone else when Brian will suddenly show up and tell him to fuck off. 

_V._

A lot of guys want to fuck you, but some want to fuck Brian. It starts innocently enough. You’re dancing with a good looking boy. He kisses you. You kiss him back. He’s grinding against you and you’re just starting to get hard when he leans in close and asks, “why don’t we get out of here?”

And even though you agreed to go home with Brian within minutes of meeting him, you’re a little more wary of this guy. He’s not creepy, but there’s something a little off about him. 

“I’m actually supposed to meet up with someone later,” you say, trying to sound casual. You continue to dance, moving your hips in sync with his.

He’s talking in your ear again. His breath is hot and his sweaty skin presses your cheekbone. “Brian? You can bring him along too.”

You pull away for a moment and you see the eager grin on his face and the hopeful look in his eyes. And then you realize that he doesn’t want to really fuck you. Gross.

_VI._

And then there’s him. He’s in a league of his own. You think of telling him about all the people you've met at Babylon like the weirdos who know you’re name and ask about your relationship status and the guys who think you’re hot but still won’t fuck you, but you don’t. 

You already know how he’ll respond — “Why the fuck should I care?” You think that Brian might like you more than he lets on, because that would explain _so_ many things like why some guys at Babylon are rude to you and why some are extra nice. You’re sure if you mentioned any of this he’d laugh in your face or tell you to fuck off. Hell, what if he gets so annoyed that he doesn’t fuck you that night. You know you’re probably being overdramatic, because Brian has made quite the habit of fucking you. But still. 

So you smile and when he asks you why you’re smiling so much, you laugh and tell him, “no reason.”


End file.
